


Daybreak

by Cesare



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Medical, Rape, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-22
Updated: 2010-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fixit sequel to the haunting story Night Shift (NSFW, NONCON) by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko">busaikko</a>, originally posted <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/sga_kinkmeme/3923.html?thread=621907#t621907">here</a>. Daybreak was prompted largely by <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/sga_kinkmeme/3923.html?thread=645971#t645971">this comment</a>.</p><p>Contains past Jennifer/Rodney and pre-John/Rodney, as well as Teyla/Kanaan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Night Shift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/130538) by [busaikko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko). 



> Since this is a fixit sequel to a story in which Jennifer Keller abuses a patient, it necessarily has a negative treatment of that character.

Teyla could not trace when she first saw a change, but she noticed over some time that John reacted differently to being in the infirmary.

He had of course never enjoyed his time there, no one seemed to; Teyla wondered at that, why the ill and wounded were put in such bright and unlovely places, on narrow beds that forbade comfort. At first she thought it was one of the advances in medicine that the Tau'ri had made that was simply beyond Teyla's knowledge of healing.

She listened to Rodney's diatribes about medicine, and John's teasing rebuttals, taking the median between them as the likely truth. But from what she gathered, few if any Tau'ri believed the bland, forbidding environment of the infirmary fostered health.

John disliked it even more than most, even though his own room was not much more inviting, in her view. He was restless when confined there, argued frequently to be discharged early, and left at the earliest opportunity, sometimes unsanctioned.

But there came a time when Teyla noticed that the tenor of his attitude had changed. Where before there was impatience, dislike and worry, now he seemed to show a deeper and more fearful distress.

He denied it when Teyla asked him over an evening meal they shared alone, as gently as she might, "Has something changed that you avoid the infirmary even more now than before?"

"Ah, you know," John shook his head, "no big deal, just-- spent too much time there already." He flashed a smile. "Maybe if they redecorate."

But his body could not lie to her after their five years of closest friendship. Even as he shrugged off the question, he shifted on his hips, one way, then the other; and briefly his shoulders lifted as if to protect himself.

She seldom saw John react to anything with such trepidation, and it troubled her. She meditated on it, and while her memory could not yield anything specific, she trusted her senses to gather more than she could consciously recall, and her mind to draw conclusions from information that her reason could not access.

She believed the shift occurred in the months after Jennifer began a relationship with Rodney. That development stirred well-concealed hints of wistfulness and regret in John, but nothing like the fearful tension she saw in him now at the prospect of the infirmary.

Teyla began to worry that perhaps Jennifer had become preoccupied, and care in the infirmary had suffered. If that were the case, it would make Jennifer feel upset and guilty to know of it, as if she had neglected her duty by falling in love.

But the infirmary ought not to require its chief to devote her entire life to it; that would be a flaw in the infirmary as a whole. Jennifer already took too much to heart, saw the slightest imperfection as failure. Teyla chose to keep her thoughts to herself for now, and began to watch.

*

Several doctors noticed that Teyla now lingered in the infirmary after her post-mission checkups, and she told them, and Jennifer, a truth: "Since becoming a mother, I find I would like to know more about your medicine. Now that Torren is a little older, I have more opportunity to pursue it."

Teyla found herself welcomed, coming to know many of the doctors on a friendly basis. They joked that she was their intern, and pretended that she would have to work for days on end, or do unpleasant tasks. She gathered that their training must be lengthy and grueling.

Despite their jokes, the medical staff were willing to accommodate and teach her, especially once she proved she could be trusted to absent herself when they were truly busy. She stayed after checkups, dropped by after dinner during the late shift, spent an hour or two here and there. They answered her questions and tutored her in minor procedures and treatments.

Sometimes she brought Torren, and the medical staff doted on him as ardently as the rest of Atlantis did.

She saw only attentive care in the Atlantis infirmary. But following her concern had only enriched her life so far, and Teyla knew patience.

*

A trading partner, the world of Budak, called for help; a scouting dart had penetrated the cloak that concealed their trading outpost. Most of their people lived in deep canyons, inaccessible to the Wraith, with only the outpost near the Stargate vulnerable now that its location was laid bare.

The team led two squads of Marines to help evacuate, and they guided hundreds of people through the gate to an alpha site. But the culling began not even an hour after they arrived, dispatched from a hive in orbit. Teyla, John and Ronon helped the Budakhu warriors fend off the Wraith as the last of the townspeople escaped.

They brought down a dart in a rain of destruction, and John took shrapnel to his thigh.

The Atlantis doctors particularly feared such injuries, Teyla had learned, because the Wraith's biological technology carried bacteria that caused infection. Teyla knew more than just field medicine now, and she felt grateful for it as she treated John's raw and blackened wound in the jumper.

She waited with Ronon and Rodney until Dr. Westerkamp came out of surgery to reassure them that John would recover completely. The muscles of his leg would regain full strength, and his skin would knit scarlessly with the help of a device from the Ancestors. He was anesthetized, and would sleep deeply through the night, and likely for much of the morning.

"We'll bring him lunch," said Rodney, bright with relief.

"I'll bring it," said Ronon, "or you'll eat half of it."

"Oh, like you won't!"

*

It was late at night on Atlantis, but early morning on New Athos, and Teyla gated there to spend breakfast with Kanaan and Torren. There she changed from her uniform into her own clothes and her own soft, light shoes, relishing the comfort after a long day in the protective but hard and heavy boots.

She treasured this time with her dear ones and the familiarity of their home, grateful for their safety after seeing so many people leave everything behind while they fled during the evacuation.

Kanaan's eyes sparkled throughout the meal, and as they finished, he took her hand. "If you come back this afternoon, we will return to the City of the Ancestors with you."

Teyla's heart leapt, her arm tightening around Torren, who squirmed a little in his place on her lap. "You resolved the dispute? I thought it would be days yet."

"We reached an agreement yesterday," said Kanaan. "Today we carry out the judgment, and that will settle the matter. I will tell you all about it tonight," he smiled mischievously, "perhaps while we share in a bath that, by the grace of the Ancestors, never grows cold."

She embraced him, and left Torren in his arms, bringing the glow of their two smiles back with her to Atlantis. She would rest, and attend the morning mission debriefing. Then it would be afternoon on Athos, and she would fetch home her partner and her son after many days apart. Her happiness made her too giddy to sleep yet.

Teyla made her way to the infirmary, to look in on John and ask the doctors, if they had time, to tell her what more she could do for such an injury in the future. Learning more about medical care had proved rewarding for its own sake, but she had not forgotten that it was originally concern for John that brought her here.

Some small, simple thing might have changed to make him more leery of the infirmary. A new drug that caused subtle discomfort, different sheets that irritated the skin; while she still disagreed with some aspects of the Tau'ri approach to healing, Teyla had gained more confidence that any such problem that discomfited a patient would likely be discovered and solved in time. The doctors of Atlantis were thorough, and cared deeply for their patients.

The atmosphere in the infirmary was dim and hushed. In weeks past, Teyla's presence at this hour would have been unusual enough to invite comment, but the few staff in attendance were accustomed to seeing her now, and greeted her only with smiles and silent waves as they quietly went about their tasks.

Teyla passed down to the end of the hall and into the smaller recovery room, admitted silently by the doors. John was the only patient in this area, but there were screens around his bed regardless. That was thoughtful, Teyla reflected. It would make John more comfortable when he woke, he always preferred to have more privacy.

She drew near, and hesitated, her steps soft. She saw the entirety all at once, in the narrow slice of a gap in the screens: Jennifer stood over John, contained in the circle of light shining down from a small lamp over her head. John wore a scrub shirt, but he was otherwise unclothed, a thick bandage circling his thigh.

His unhurt leg was pulled up and back by an attachment extended from the bed, John's foot through a stirrup. Jennifer's hands moved where he was most exposed.

She might be administering a suppository or performing some examination that Teyla had yet to learn. But Teyla felt disturbed.

Jennifer's motions grew more insistent, and she ceased suddenly and pulled off her thin glove, frustration in her posture. She reached up; John's head lay tilted to the side, his face soft and unguarded in sleep, lips apart, and Jennifer slid her hand into his hair, made a fist and sharply pulled. The gesture was nothing Teyla could possibly mistake for medicine.

John made a sound: small, unconscious, helpless. Teyla mastered her rage almost before she could feel it, shaping it into resolve, directing it with her will. She stood poised to intervene, but held back, unwilling to risk a confrontation while John lay defenseless under Jennifer's hands.

Teyla made herself stand still as Jennifer's shoulders heaved and her breathing slowed. She made herself watch as Jennifer slid implements from John's body and placed them in the autoclave. She waited as Jennifer cleaned John's body and eased his leg back into the bed, replacing his shorts and the blankets.

Teyla moved to keep the privacy screens between them until Jennifer finished and walked away from John, and to be certain, Teyla let her leave the room entirely, let her footsteps fade, and used her radio to wake Ronon.

"Do not worry. John is well. But I need you to come and stay by him," she said, and without question, Ronon agreed.

He arrived within minutes. Teyla greeted him formally, and he showed only fleeting surprise before he bent his head in answer. She did not know how to tell him that she was charging him to preserve a safety that had already been shattered.

Jennifer was sitting at her desk, sipping a cup of tea; her cheeks were faintly flushed. She looked up when Teyla approached and smiled.

"You will resign at once," said Teyla, "and come with me to turn yourself in."

Shame swept over Jennifer's beautiful young face. She did not pretend ignorance, or deny it.

"I told Elizabeth I didn't want this job," Jennifer said, her mouth downturned.

*

John was still sedated when Teyla brought Kanaan and Torren to Atlantis and settled them in her rooms, her joy dimmed almost to nothing by what had happened, and what she had yet to do.

"I cannot speak of it," she said when Kanaan asked what troubled her.

He did not question it; each of them, as leaders and mediators, had often been charged with keeping the secrets of others, even from one another. Teyla felt a burst of gratitude for his understanding and his strength. She turned into his embrace and held on tightly.

She would have to tell John what she had witnessed. She had, in fact, insisted to Mr. Woolsey that she should be the one to tell him. But she allowed herself a moment of selfishness: she did not _want_ to tell him, she wanted him never to know.

She gathered herself and went to the infirmary to relieve Ronon from his watch, and to wait.

Marie attended to John's comfort as he came out of sedation. When she propped the head of the bed up at his request, his expression changed fleetingly, growing uncomfortable and confused. Teyla locked her hands together very tightly.

Once they were alone, John looked to her. "Uh oh," he said. "I don't think that expression can mean anything good. Leg must be bad if they're going to make you break the news to me."

"They expect you to recover completely from the injury to your leg," said Teyla.

"So what else is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," she said more emphatically than she intended. She steadied herself. "Dr. Keller is resigning. She has harmed you."

"Resigning? That's a ways to go to avoid a malpractice suit," John said, but she saw him shift minutely, she could tell he was already beginning to understand.

"I am sorry, John. It was deliberate," Teyla said.

His face was closing off. "And you know this because..." he said leadingly, but he didn't wait to let her answer. "You-- firsthand."

"Yes." She hesitated. "I can tell you as much or as little as you wish. Dr. Keller has written a confession."

"I want to read it."

She had expected that; she gave him the data tablet. "Do you want privacy?"

"Little late for that," he said, and winced at his own words. "Sorry. Not like you asked for this." He hesitated. "Stay."

Teyla did not watch him as he read, giving him this much space at least. She wished she could comfort him, but words would not soothe this, and John tended to stiffen at a touch. She could only imagine how much more unwelcome it would be now.

John surprised her, though. He put the tablet aside, and met her eyes. He looked drawn, tense, uncertain. Then he pushed himself further upright, til he was close enough to bow his head to her. She answered in kind; their brows met, and they touched only there.

She willed him peace. His face was calmer when they parted.

*

In her resignation, Jennifer confessed to abusing John on four occasions; only him, she said. But by then, the Tau'ri were no longer taking Jennifer Keller's word for anything.

The new counseling staff arrived shortly after Jennifer's departure to Earth. Their first grim task was to inform the entire expedition, one small group at a time, that each of them might have been assaulted when they were at their most vulnerable.

The counselors tried to be gentle. "If you begin to remember or feel you have any reason to suspect," they said, inviting confidence.

Rodney looked as though someone had died. John wore a fixed expression of concern, showing nothing.

*

Mr. Woolsey made an appointment with Teyla, and in the privacy of his office, said, "I was hoping I could ask you for advice about filling the position of Head of Medicine."

"Of course I would be glad to offer my counsel," said Teyla after a moment's surprise.

He noted her expression and smiled tiredly. "You've been spending time with the medical staff recently, and I trust your judgement about who has the temperament to take on the job. I'm afraid recent events have demonstrated that we can't make this decision based on ability alone."

"I understand," she said.

Mr. Woolsey appointed Dr. Biro to the position two days later.

Teyla brought a bottle of wine to Dr. Biro's quarters. "I know the circumstances do not really allow for celebration," she explained as she poured, "but it is deserved, nonetheless."

"Thank you," said Dr. Biro, clinking their glasses together in one of the odd customs the Tau'ri enacted without seeming themselves to know the meaning. "I had to think before I agreed to take it on. Like you say, the circumstances are terrible. Everyone's confidence is shaken. How could something like this happen without any of us knowing?"

"This expedition could not function without trust," said Teyla.

"Are you planning to keep up your internship?" asked Dr. Biro.

"I would like to," Teyla said. "I have learned a great deal, and I value the opportunity."

"I wonder if I can ask you..."

"Yes?"

"To keep an ear on the ground," Dr. Biro said. "We all knew Keller felt overwhelmed... maybe if she'd gotten more support, she wouldn't have cracked like that. But to be honest, there was a lot of antagonism in the department when she was tapped to replace Carson. She was Carson's protege and gifted, very gifted, but at that age? She had no real leadership or administrative experience. It didn't help that she tried to do Carson's job Carson's way. The head of medicine doesn't have to do _everything,_ and it only looked as if Carson did. He knew how to delegate, Keller didn't."

Teyla nodded to hear it, thinking back. But she had to ask, "And this ear to the ground?"

"Sorry... sidetracked. This is what happens when you bring wine," Dr. Biro smiled faintly. "I was hoping you'd tell me if you notice anyone seeming stressed or overworked-- well, that's not helpful, is it? We all are, it can't be helped. But if you hear anyone complaining or see any cause for concern, however minor it seems, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know."

"Of course, Dr. Biro," said Teyla.

"Please," she waved a hand, "Rhonda."

Teyla lifted her glass again in a slight toast. "Rhonda."

*

Soon after, Rodney came to her rooms bewildered and desolate. "She contacted me," he said.

He said, "She told me, and now I feel like some kind of accomplice."

He said, "I don't know what to do. He'd hate it that I know."

"He might believe you've known since she resigned," Teyla answered. The particulars of Jennifer's confession had been kept confidential, but Teyla had herself assumed that Rodney knew, that Jennifer had told him privately.

His face was abject with horror. Teyla could only imagine how it would feel to learn that not only had his beloved harmed someone, she had hurt another he also cared for deeply.

"I didn't know!" Rodney paced back and forth. "I have to tell him. How do you _talk_ about something like this? They don't exactly make greeting cards for 'sorry my ex-girlfriend assaulted you.' Oh, god, that's why he's been sleeping in weird places... sacking out at Ronon's, and in my office the other day. I thought he was just tired from doing all those training exercises with the Marines! I made fun of him for getting old!"

"Rodney, be calm," she advised. "John needs our support, and to support him, you need to be stable."

"Have we _met?"_

"We have," she said, "and having met you, I know that you are capable of extraordinary things for your friends. Even this." She went to him, stilled his anxious hands. "And John knows you too. All he has ever asked of you is honesty."

"And miracles," Rodney grumbled. He looked at her with a sudden moment of acuity. "Are _you_ okay?"

An untrue _yes_ sprang to her lips, but she did not let it pass. "No. I am," she admitted, "very angry."

"Yeah," Rodney said, turning his hands in hers to return her grasp. "Yeah."

No one was meant to know beyond John, Teyla, and Mr. Woolsey; Ronon knew, seeing much and saying little as usual, and now Rodney as well. But slowly the knowledge seemed to seep out to others. A few of the very new people from Earth behaved with solicitude toward John, but all the expedition members who were at all familiar with the Colonel behaved carefully just the same as ever.

Some with more success than others; and despite his efforts, Rodney with the least success of all.

*

The team gathered the next night to play Hearth, which John and Rodney insisted on calling Fizzbin.

"I'm still getting the hang of it," John said when he lost the first hand very quickly. "And I started with like, three torches."

"What's to get the hang of?" asked Rodney. His tone was nearly right, but he stared at his cards too intently rather than looking at John. "It's basically a cross between Old Maid and Gin Rummy."

"WIth seven suits, sixteen wild cards and all these Mah Jong tile things," John parked his elbows on the table, frowning down at his tiles, corded muscle tensing in his bare forearms. He had on a buttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves over his usual black tee shirt. Lately he always seemed to wear his uniform overshirt, or a buttoned shirt like this one. He glanced at Rodney again. "You were the one who started calling it Fizzbin."

"That's because the rules change at night! Not because I don't _understand_ it."

"Pair of leaves," said Ronon, adding them to the bonfire stack. He looked at Rodney with amused impatience. "What, did you forget--?"

"Of course not! Here," Rodney handed his caterpillar tile to Ronon. Teyla did not miss his fleeting look of relief when Ronon accepted the tile as correct and completed the play.

Teyla played her wheel, and each of them passed a card to the left. John looked at his hand with dismay. "Crap. I think I just lost again."

"Seriously?" Rodney forgot to be self-conscious, leaning to look at John's cards. "How do you even get six torches this early in the game? Wow, your luck is _terrible_ lately."

As quickly as the words escaped him, Rodney all but yanked himself out of John's vicinity. He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"It's fine," John said with annoyance.

"You can play your serpent tile to shed any two cards and replace them," Teyla reminded John, and he was able to continue.

*

Teyla attended sessions with one of the new psychologists, Dr. Gutala. It was difficult at first; Teyla missed Kate Heightmeyer.

But she had questions. And since, as the only witness, Teyla was inextricably involved, Dr. Gutala gave her answers.

She learned that Jennifer had repeatedly requested to be replaced as the Head of Medicine in Atlantis. But because Jennifer performed her duties well, her requests were denied. She was notified that she could request transfer to another position on an Earth base if she liked, but if she stayed on Atlantis, she would remain in charge.

Jennifer apparently believed that leaving Atlantis would signify a great failure, not only in her career but in her life. She stayed, and suppressed her resentment until her anger found a direction.

Dr. Gutala explained, "Her superiors thought it was modesty, that she just needed to gain confidence. After all, she excelled at the work. But heading the department was too much stress for a twenty-six-year-old, no matter how gifted.

"Dr. Keller had to know on some level that she'd be caught. I think she violated her ethics so drastically because subconsciously she wanted to be removed from a position of responsibility that she couldn't cope with. And I think she targeted Colonel Sheppard because he represented the authority of the SGC, the people she felt had set her up to fail."

Teyla noted the absence of a more personal motive in Dr. Gutala's analysis, but perhaps he was only being circumspect.

"Ordinarily any doctor who behaved this way would never work in medicine again. But the IOA sees it as an institutional failure. And pragmatically speaking, Dr. Keller's expertise is valuable. The SGC is always short of doctors with clearance."

Dr. Gutala seemed to expect a reaction to that, indignation, perhaps. Teyla murmured, "I understand. It is a custom on some worlds that after a culling, most prisoners receive amnesty, so they can help to rebuild."

"Dr. Keller will attend mandatory counseling while she's in custody," said Dr. Gutala. "She'll have the opportunity to work in medical research at the SGC, in a limited capacity, with supervision. She'll go through a lot of treatment, and if she ever sees patients directly again, she'll never be alone with them. As for the larger problem of the strain on personnel here, my colleagues and I hope to address that."

*

The most obvious change made by the counseling staff was that mandatory rest days were now scheduled every tenth day.

"Finally," said Kanaan, his arm strong and warm around her shoulders, "your friends learn how to live."

She thought of the remote and heedless masters back on Earth, who only approved this change after so much damage was already done, and all her restrained fury boiled up in her. She had spent long hours in the gym letting the anger course through her, channeling it into her practice, but it was not enough.

Nothing enough, and all too late. The rage died as quickly as it was born, and left her with mourning; for herself this time, for the friendship she had believed she had with Jennifer, for the trust she had misplaced-- for her own betrayal.

"Teyla, what is it?" Kanaan shifted to hold her more comfortingly. "The doctor who left? You cannot tell me," he guessed.

"I thought I knew her," Teyla said, turning her face to him. He stroked her neck, and she spent her grief on his shoulder.

From his smaller bed, Torren began to fuss, and Teyla wiped her eyes and collected herself, rose and brought him to rest between her and Kanaan. Torren wriggled and complained until Teyla got up again to retrieve his doll.

Torren promptly stuffed the doll's leg into his mouth. "Ahn-oo!" he said, in the tone and rhythm of _thank you._

"Our boy," said Kanaan proudly, ruffling his hand over Torren's blooming curls. Teyla pressed a kiss to Torren's brow and let the easy joy of this moment console her.

They lounged in bed, warm, safe, and protected, telling some of the old stories to Torren, who kicked his feet and listened curiously. When breakfast could be delayed no longer, they rose and dressed, Kanaan helping Torren into his clothes, his tiny socks.

Teyla watched fondly. When they were younger, Kanaan sometimes told her how much he looked forward to having children of his own. Later, remembering his wish had made Teyla hesitant to speak her feelings to him; she was not sure she could raise a child, she felt too much responsibility to her people and the alliance with Atlantis.

When she at last confided in him, Kanaan assured her that he would care for any children they might be blessed with, relying on his extended family for help, and he was true to his promise. He doted on Torren, and he never asked Teyla to alter the balance between her duty and her family.

Teyla supposed it might not be in the spirit of the rest day to wear her radio, but she did not like to be without it, and placed it in her ear. Only moments after she activated it, she heard Rodney's voice, oddly tentative: "Teyla? Are you busy?"

"We are preparing breakfast," she answered. "What is it?"

"Oh... well... I'll be by in a minute."

Rodney arrived shortly, straightening his spine and lifting his chin with the nervous, formal air he assumed when he was too conscious of social interaction. "I thought maybe this afternoon, I might look after Torren, and give you and Kanaan some time, ah, to yourselves, as it were," he visibly struggled to choose the right words. He handed her a box. "I made Torren a remote control car, like the ones John and I have, but simpler. All the parts are enclosed and everything's rounded off to make it safe."

"That's very kind, Rodney," said Teyla, touched.

"Well, yes, I suppose... though ah, I did actually make one of my junior scientists do the fabrication," Rodney admitted. "Sort of detention for making a sloppy error."

"Stay for breakfast." She added, "Kanaan is cooking," and Rodney perked a little.

"Sure, yes. Thanks."

They were only just beginning to snack on the toasted breynuts when her door chimed again.

John and Ronon stood outside. She was unsurprised to see them together. John was spending much time with Ronon lately. He seemed to need quiet as much as he needed company, and Ronon was comfortable with silence. She was glad of it; John should not have to be alone.

"Good morning," John said.

"Good morning! Come in," she invited, "we were just beginning breakfast."

"Nah, that's okay," said John, but Ronon was already shouldering past him toward the table; she heard him swing Torren shrieking into the air, and scuffle with Rodney over the breynuts.

John had his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "We thought maybe we'd borrow Torren for a while," he offered, "take him off your hands...?"

"You are not the first today to offer to relieve us of him," said Teyla dryly as she waved him in.

John did not stop short at the sight of Rodney, but she saw his hidden hands ball into fists for a moment before he said casually, "Hey, buddy. Looks like you beat us to the babysitting gig."

After a scant pause, Rodney set his shoulders and answered, "Guess you'll have to find some other way to pay for your Evel Knievel Crash Car. Maybe you should get a paper route."

Whatever this meant, it made John duck his head and grin more broadly than Teyla had seen him smile in far too long.

"Already on it," he said, dropping into the chair next to Rodney. "Want a subscription to Grit?"

"Sorry, I'm saving up for Wacky Packages," said Rodney, pushing a dish of nuts within John's reach.

"Hey," said Ronon, taking the dish back. Torren wriggled down off his lap and toddled a few steps to grab John's knee; he held on looking pleased with himself, wheeled around, and toddled back to Ronon's leg with a giggle.

"Fine," Rodney sighed, and nudged his own dish closer to John, who took a handful.

"Thanks," he said, jostling his arm against Rodney's companionably.

"It is thoughtful of the three of you to offer to look after Torren," said Teyla. "I am grateful. But I would be even happier if all of us could spend the day together."

"P82-194," John suggested right away. Torren returned to cling to his leg, and began pulling at his pantleg; John helped him clamber up onto his lap.

"The one with orange beaches?" Ronon munched breynuts thoughtfully. "The continents have poisonous plants. Safe on the islands, though."

"We can't necessarily know it's safe there! Anything could be living in that sand," Rodney protested. "Scanners only penetrate so far into that kind of dense mineral-rich soil."

"We'll have a jumper with sensors engaged right there with us, just in case," said John. "It'll be as safe as anything ever is around here."

They all fell silent, reminded that even in Atlantis, even in the infirmary, John had not been safe.

In that moment of painful quiet, the sound of food dropping into a pan and the sudden hiss of sizzling oil seemed very loud. The tantalizing scent reached them quickly.

"I'll see if I can help," said Ronon, pushing up from the table and heading toward the small cooking area. He rested his hand on John's shoulder for an instant as he passed.

"I suppose there's going to be surfing," said Rodney, sounding resigned, but he could not quite hide his affection when John half-smiled and began to describe the perfect wave.

*

There was surfing. At midday Teyla found herself standing on a shaped plank, carried by the white froth of the tide: a moment of balance between the scalloped green glass of the ocean below and a clear violet sky above. Only a moment, and she was tumbling into the sea again. John swam near to help her get back on the board.

"It's fun, isn't it?" he asked.

She nodded. "I see why you like it. That was exhilarating." It was worth the labor of hours to learn the way of it, to have that one moment.

When she left the water, cool drops and rivulets streaming from her hair, the warm air surrounded her like an embrace. Even the hot sand underfoot felt good. She dug both feet in and let it warm her.

Some distance away, in the tidepools, Ronon stood utterly still, spear poised, his face smooth with a peace she had not been able to teach him to reach through meditation; but in pursuit of a goal, Ronon could achieve that same perfect state of mindful calm.

Teyla moved toward the shade of the jumper, where Rodney had enlisted Kanaan to shape sand into plateaus and towers for Torren's entertainment. Currently they were building a structure around Torren, who sat in the middle and watched with interest as walls rose on four sides and towers went up at each corner, which he knocked down as soon as Rodney took his hands away.

"We're making sand castles," said Rodney. "Torren is helping assess structural stability."

"You're slacking, McKay," John came up, adjusting the collar of his wetsuit as he perched on the edge of Rodney's towel. "I thought you'd have built Sandlantis by now."

"I forgot to bring my armatures and modeling glue." Rodney gave John a sharp look. "If that fiddling with your zipper is because the back of your neck is sunburned, I might use the glue in my next batch of sunscreen. I made you reapply every hour and your nose still looks pink."

"Maybe you didn't notice, but I've been surfing. Tends to rinse off suntan lotion."

"It's waterproof! It's you, you're like Teflon," said Rodney, disgruntled. "Here, I brought zinc oxide too," he said, smearing another cream on his fingers, "just," he made as if to touch John's face; John ducked reflexively, one hand feinting toward a warding gesture before John caught himself.

Rodney's face went much more red than John's slight tinge of sunburn. "Sorry," he said, snatching his hand back. "Sorry." After a moment he applied the cream to his own nose instead, leaving it comically whitened.

Even knowing the moment to be serious, Teyla had trouble keeping down a rueful smile; Rodney's white nose looked just like the makeup of the costumed buffoons of the Quapiate traveling theater. He only needed the gray eye-circles and the straight orange line drawn from ear to ear across his mouth and cheeks; with his nose whitened, she could envision all the paint as clearly as if he were wearing it.

Kanaan, less sensitive to the significance of the moment, and obviously struck by the sight as much as Teyla, chuckled. Rodney shot him a look, confused and hurt.

Teyla opened her mouth to explain, but Kanaan was already saying, "I apologize, Dr. McKay, but the salve on your nose is a symbol of comedy on many worlds."

John jumped on the new topic. "What, like a clown?"

"Yes, I believe so," said Kanaan, and began to explain Quapiate theater.

"Juggling," said John at Kanaan's description of stone-tossing. "They're totally clowns."

Kanaan looked at Teyla with a hint of a smile, and she realized that he had seen the tension earlier after all, and sought to smooth it; she felt pride that he cared for her friends and had the presence of mind to intercede.

Ronon arrived then with a pair of shellfish threaded on his spear, and they moved to make a firepit on the other side of the jumper. Kanaan picked up Torren and walked him back and forth to comfort and jolly him when he cried at being kept from the fire-building.

John sat back on his heels as the kindling smoldered and touched his nose. "Maybe I need that stuff after all," he said, tapping Rodney's wrist, a deliberate brief touch.

"Oh-- sure," Rodney passed him the tube. "Teyla?"

"The sunscreen seems enough for me, for now," she said. John finished applying the cream and offered the tube to Ronon.

"Don't need it." Ronon sniffed the sunscreen on his own arm and made a face. "Can't believe you think this smells good."

"I think they just want us to be the only ones who look like clowns," said John.

"Situation normal for me," Rodney said huffily, but he looked pleased as John elbowed him and returned the tube, folding his legs to sit and share his towel.

The shellfish were delicious. It was a beautiful day.

*

Inevitably one day John landed in the infirmary again, scratched with a poisoned weapon hurled by a people who mistook the team for raiders who'd attacked their village in the past.

Teyla made hasty peace and John was given an antidote, but even so he was white and sweating. Ronon and Rodney balanced him between them as they hurried back to the gate.

Each of the team took turns watching over John as he slept in the infirmary. He woke during Teyla's watch, and in his fuddled state, his face clearly showed his relief when he saw her.

He surprised her by saying, after sipping a little water, his eyes still fixed on the cup, "I appreciate it."

Teyla inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Think nothing of it."

A long silence stretched in the quiet of the private room.

John said, very low, "I thought it was me, you know? I thought it was just... resenting her."

She had never imagined she would hear John admit so much aloud.

"If you hadn't been hanging out around here," John began, but he grimaced, unable to continue. With only a small hesitation, he clasped her hand. "Thank you."

She wished she could have stopped it sooner; she wished she could have done more. But she would not burden him or herself with regrets.

Teyla squeezed his hand and released it, and answered, "We are family."

Something troubled in his face relaxed at that, and he nodded.

The door opened, Rodney speaking over his comm in what he probably believed to be a quiet voice. "No one appreciates the significance of a cosmological event of this magnitude more than me, I'm just saying I have reservations about sending a team that far from any viable stargates. Not only does that mean the team spends thirty-four hours in a jumper, which believe me is no picnic, that's thirty-four hours until help can get there if something goes wrong. Address that problem, then we'll talk."

Teyla, already watching John closely, saw how he lit up when Rodney entered, how his weariness and discomfort washed away; how he seemed almost to bask in the rapid patter of Rodney's words.

And she saw too how Rodney reacted to the sight of John awake, brimming with hopeful devotion. "You're better," he said happily.

"Yeah," John smiled, looking at Teyla gratefully and then fondly at Rodney again. "I'm better."


End file.
